


all along (there was some invisible string)

by dancedance_resolution



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - School, Autistic Kara Danvers, Childhood Friends to Lovers, F/F, Mutual Pining, some angst; some fluff; a happy ending :)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28396068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancedance_resolution/pseuds/dancedance_resolution
Summary: Laying in the park's field like this is a usual routine for Kara—one that the Danvers and the local kids have learned not to question—so it’s a surprise when Kara hears a breathy voice ask, “Are you okay?”Kara hums in acknowledgment.“Why are you laying on the ground?”Kara opens her eyes ever so slightly. There’s a girl standing at her feet who looks to be shorter than Kara, with light blonde hair tied into a high, tight bun. Her blue knee-length dress looks like it’s dancing in the breeze.“Can I lay on the ground with you?”---childhood friends to lovers, featuring: mutual pining, tropes, and autistic kara danvers!
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 66
Kudos: 254





	all along (there was some invisible string)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spacemanearthgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacemanearthgirl/gifts).



Kara Danvers loves the Sun. Her mom, Eliza, leaves her bedroom’s blinds open when she sleeps so bright beams can greet her every morning, and her older sister, Alex, reluctantly brings her along to all of her soccer practices so she can soak in the Saturday morning sunlight.

But Kara’s fascination with the Sun extends beyond just enjoyment of its rays. Her bookshelves are full of hardcovers illustrating the sun’s location in the universe, the names of its layers, and the statistics behind that magical gaseous sphere. And Kara can recite nearly every page of those many books, repeating lines to herself and her family whenever she feels happy or sad or excited or icky.

Did you know that it takes and eight minutes and twenty seconds for light leaving the Sun to reach Earth? Kara does!

Kara only agrees to go to Kindergarten because her mom says that she’ll learn about the Sun in science class. She doesn’t like that she has to wake up at a different time now—8:30 instead of 9:00—and she doesn’t like that she’ll have to each lunch at a different time now—12:00 instead of 1:00. But her mom insists that the change in routine will be worth it because she’ll make new friends and learn more about the Sun.

Kara is always excited to learn more about the Sun, of course, and new friends sounds like an okay prospect. After all, Kara’s only friends at the moment are her cat, her mom, and her sister (the latter of which has a tendency to get what Eliza calls “frustrated” but Kara calls mean).

In the week leading up to the first day, Kara and two other children attend special sessions with a woman who smiles a lot, Ms. West-Allen. According to the blue book, when someone smiles, it means that they’re happy, and if they’re happy, then they feel good. So if Ms. West-Allen feels good, then school is probably good too.

 _School is good_ , Kara repeats to herself, trying to drill the notion convincingly into her mind.

But the little sessions have also been confusing. Ms. West-Allen called one of her classmates Querl at first, but then his dad told her that he goes by Brainy. And she called the other classmate a boy name, but then the classmate leaned over and whispered into Kara’s ear that her real name was a girl name: Nia.

Why did they both have different names? Why did Nia whisper her real name to Kara and then Brainy—does she not want Ms. West-Allen to know? Why wouldn’t she want Ms. West-Allen to know?

Eliza has been calling Ms. West-Allen the “para-educator” in the telephone discussions Kara overhears, and upon inquiry, Alex tells Kara that “para-educator” means that Ms. West-Allen will be there to help keep Kara, Brainy, and Nia on track. Kara isn’t exactly sure why they need to be kept “on track,” but Alex starts talking about something called ADHD and says that weird word Kara hears too often— _autism_ —so Kara just walks away. It’s almost dinnertime anyways.

The morning of the official first day of school, Kara and Alex take pictures in front yard of the house. They pose with their “First Day of Kindergarten” and “First Day of Second Grade” signs while Eliza excitedly snaps too many photos. The Sun is so bright that Kara has to squint. All in all, she’s not sure whether she’s happy or scared or a little bit hungry.

It’s just a lot of emotions, and Kara’s never had a great time identifying them. Nonetheless, Kara remains stubbornly hopeful for a good day. Her week of classroom time with Brainy, Nia, and Ms. West-Allen had been fun enough, even if she is still a little bit confused about why Ms. West-Allen isn’t allowed to know Nia’s real name.

But the first day of Kindergarten is decidedly terrible. Kara tries to make a new friend, using the introduction script that Alex had taught her—but she trips over her words, and her flapping left hand accidentally knocks over the glue bottle, and then Sam’s scissors are creating a terrible sound that makes Kara wince, and then the prospective new friend is speaking words that Kara hadn’t practiced for—and next thing Kara knows, she’s in a ball beneath the table, eyes screwed shut and mouth furiously rattling off “The Sun’s enormous gravity grips the planets, dwarf planets, asteroids, and comets, preventing them from spinning into deep space” over and over again, as if the mantra is the only thing keeping her afloat.

Ms. West-Allen guides Kara out of the classroom and towards the sensory break room; behind her, she can hear Ms. Tomaz beginning to explain to the class what just happened, bringing up that weird word— _autism—_ that adults always say around Kara when they think she isn’t listening.

Kara isn’t sure whether she feels icky or just tired.

When Kara finally returns to class, she finds out that she missed snack time. She takes a sip from her water bottle, but swallowing is weird, almost like her throat is too small. Kara thinks that maybe she wants to cry, even though she knows a missed snack is nothing to cry over.

On the car ride home, Eliza announces that they’ll be stopping by the park. Alex cheers and jostles to reach for her soccer ball on the car floor; Kara wants to cheer too, just like her sister, because going to the park means that she’ll get to lay with the Sun for a while. But the sound can’t come out of her just right, and once again, Kara feels the urge to cry for no reason.

When the car pulls to a stop, Kara frantically unbuckles herself and bounds out of the vehicle. She races to the middle of the grassy field and collapses, laying down on her back and resting her hands on her belly. She can feel the cool ground beneath her skin, the short and crisp grass a perfect contrast to the Sun’s warm and all-encompassing rays. The sunlight feels like a cure-all, like a calming weighted blanket or a welcome hug from her mom, as she lets her eyes drift shut.

It’s a usual routine for Kara, one that the Danvers and the local kids have learned not to question, so it’s a surprise when Kara hears a breathy voice ask, “Are you okay?”

Kara hums in acknowledgement.

“Why are you laying on the ground?”

Kara opens her eyes ever so slightly. There’s a girl standing at her feet who looks to be shorter than Kara, with light blonde hair tied into a high, tight bun. Her blue knee-length dress looks like it’s dancing in the breeze.

Kara doesn’t respond, so the girl asks another question. “Do you like laying on the ground?”

Kara hums and shuts her eyes.

“Can I lay on the ground with you?”

Kara hums.

She hears a shuffling sound soon after, and when she opens her eyes to see what has happened, she finds the girl laying next to her, gaze intently fixed on Kara’s face.

“I’m Lena.”

Kara closes her eyes again and tilts her head back upwards towards the Sun.

“I’m five years old, but I’ll be six in October, and I go to Kindergarten at Midvale Prep. I just moved into the yellow house last week. How old are you?”

Kara hums.

“Do you speak?”

Kara hums.

Lena pauses for a while before starting again, quieter this time. “It’s okay if you don’t speak. I couldn’t speak one time.”

\---

The second day of Kindergarten proves a slight improvement on the first. During snack time, Kara sits next to Nia, who talks incessantly about a silly dream she’d had the night before; Kara finds herself happily laughing at the nonsensical plotline once Nia explains that it’s _supposed_ to be crazy—which, it is! Crazy, that is. It involves Brainy’s head turning green! They resolve to tell Brainy about the dream at lunchtime tomorrow. And during lunch today, Alex isn’t there to make fun of how Kara peels off the thin dough of her pot stickers and eats it separately from the vegetables inside (they’re different textures, so they shouldn’t be eaten together!). It's a nice respite from the so-called "sibling banter."

But the day isn’t all sunshine. Kara has the worst trouble threading the beads onto the string during craft time. It feels like her fingers aren’t even hers, like no matter what her brain tells them to do, they won’t listen. By the end of craft time, all Kara’s string can boast is three red beads, and even then, she has to get Ms. West-Allen to tie the fraying bit of yarn into a circle for her.

Kara frustratedly shoves the pathetic bracelet into the pocket of her jacket, very glad—but also a bit mad—that craft time is over.

When Kara spots Eliza at pick up time, she audibly sighs with relief. Today has been a lot—she was in a small, brightly colored room with twenty other loud children, after all—and all she wants to do is go to the park and lay in the sunlight.

She points to Alex’s soccer ball as Eliza helps her get buckled into the car, the action a wordless request, and Eliza nods in assent.

A short ride brings them to the park, and Kara skips out into the center of the field before laying down. As always, her hands take rest upon her belly. The position allows her to feel her breathing, feel how her body expands to take in the fresh air and sunlight like she’s a vessel for its greatness and majesty.

Did you know that the Sun’s mass is one point nine-eight-nine times ten to the thirtieth power kilograms?

“Hello again,” comes the same voice from yesterday. Its owner proceeds to lay down next to Kara, just like yesterday.

“I got a sunburn yesterday from being here with you.”

Kara considers her words for a moment. Page seven of the tall book has information about sunburns. “‘Ultra-violet radiation is a form of non-ionizing radiation that is emitted by the Sun.’”

“Oh, you can talk today!” the girl, Lena, says. “I’m wearing sunscreen today. Ms. Rhea—my caretaker right now—she made sure of it after she saw me all sunburnt last night.” She pauses for a few seconds before asking, “So, if you can talk today, can you tell me your name?”

“Yes.”

Lena pauses for a second. “Oh, um, what’s your name?”

“Kara Danvers.”

“It’s lovely to meet you again, Kara.”

“It’s lovely to meet you again, Lena.”

Kara opens her eyes just in time to see Lena smile at her response. Her whole face scrunches up when she smiles, almost as if the smile is overtaking her. Kara remembers back to the blue book—smile equals happy, and happy equals good.

Lena feels good. That’s good. And Kara feels good too; the Sun is warm and soothing on her skin, and something about Lena makes Kara want to smile too.

“How old are you?” Lena inquires.

“Five.”

“Are you in Kindergarten like me?”

Kara’s eyes wander around the sky above her, and her fingers wiggle absentmindedly. She decides she likes the sound of Lena’s voice. “Yes.”

“Where do you go to Kindergarten?”

“Do you want to be my friend?” Kara asks abruptly, rather than answering the question. She knows that she’s supposed to respond to Lena’s question before asking her own, but she could barely stop herself from interrupting Lena’s question in the first place. Because she remembered that when someone makes you feel good, that means you want to be their friend, so Kara just _had_ to ask Lena to be her friend before she could think about anything else.

“Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”

Kara looks back over at Lena, who’s still smiling. Her blonde hair is loose today, free from yesterday’s restricting bun, and her dress is a pretty shade of yellow. Like the Sun.

Kara returns Lena’s smile.

“Can you answer where you go to Kindergarten?”

“Yes.”

It takes Lena a second to ask another question. “Where do you go to Kindergarten?

“School.”

“Which school?”

Kara turns onto her side so she can get a better view of Lena, and Lena copies the movement. She scans over Lena’s face, avoiding meeting her eyes. “School.”

Lena’s forehead is crinkly now. A few seconds pass. “Does your school have a name?”

Kara takes a deep breath, like Eliza taught her to do in moments where she feels a little bit paralyzed. Because she doesn’t know if her school has a name, and a group of people in the parking lot just started playing music with piercing bass, and she’s not sure if she wants to be Lena’s friend anymore now that she’s asking her so many questions, and the wind and bass and general chatter are surrounding her with a wall of _loud_ , and she thinks that maybe she’s quite hungry now, and her mouth feels funny and very heavy when she tries to open it to speak.

Perhaps Lena senses Kara’s distress, because her brow furrows and she adds, “It’s okay if you don’t know the answer.”

Kara rolls onto her back. She missed the Sun on her face.

She desperately scans her brain for any useful information for this moment. She thinks back to her books—what is she supposed to do when she makes a friend? Alex plays soccer with her friends, but Kara isn’t good at running. Her mom gives her friends gifts of food, but Kara doesn’t have any food. But, oh, she does have—

Kara grins and retrieves the bracelet she made today from her pocket; its three red beads shine in the sunlight, almost like the magical talismans in the fantasy books Alex reads aloud to Kara.

She stands up from the ground before extending her hand out to Lena. Lena reaches out her hand in turn, and Kara gives her the bracelet.

Lena takes a second to stand up as well before examining the object. Soon enough, she’s smiling again. “Is this for me to keep?”

“Yes.” Kara forcefully nods her head once as she says the word.

“Thank you; it’s beautiful. And red is my favorite color.”

Lena is smiling still, and smiling equals happy, and happy equals good.

Everything is good.

Kara feels good.

Kara’s smile grows impossibly bigger as she runs off to find Alex.

\---

Daily afterschool park visits become a Danvers family ritual, and spending her park visits with Lena becomes Kara’s own ritual. As the weeks pass and this time with her new friend sets itself into her routine, Kara finds herself increasingly happier to spend her afternoons with Lena. She knows what to expect now—she lays down, Lena lays down a few minutes later, and together, they take in the sun’s fortifying light. On the rare rainy days, Kara and Lena sit at the picnic tables under the wooden pavilion, and Kara realizes that she misses the Sun a lot less when Lena’s around to supply some of the joy she previously thought only attainable through the Sun’s rays.

Lena seems to develop her own routine too. She refrains from asking too many questions in the first few minutes they spend together, letting Kara stim in silence while she recovers from her demanding school day (unless it’s a vocal stim type of day, on which occasions Lena sometimes likes to join in on making the fun sounds). After a while, Lena starts talking about something, or Kara starts talking about something, or Lena pulls out a coloring book to share, or Kara pulls out some fidget toys to share, and all goes well.

Her afternoons with Lena make Kara feel good. And Lena smiles a lot, which means that Lena is happy, which means that Lena feels good.

Everything is good. Truly, euphorically, deeply good.

When school goes on holiday break, Kara implores Eliza to take her to the park to see Lena, and the request makes Eliza smile.

But Lena isn’t there, and she’s not there again on Tuesday, and when Eliza refuses to take Kara back to the park on Wednesday, Kara shuts herself into her tight closet and lets herself cry. The alcove is small, all four of its walls protecting Kara from sound and light and icky feelings, and Kara begins to think that even though this whole school thing is a scam—they haven’t even learned anything about the Sun yet!—she’d go back to school in a heartbeat if it meant she’d be able to see Lena in the park afterwards again.

Eliza comes upstairs after a while and opens the closet door. She apologizes for forcing a last-minute routine change on Kara and offers to take her to the park. But it’s too late now, and for some undefinable reason, Kara just wants to sit in the darkness and think about the Moon instead of the sunshine in the park or the way the sunlight reflects off the face of Lena’s watch.

\---

Kara thinks she’s excited to go back to Kindergarten. When she thinks about hearing Nia’s crazy dreams again, she involuntarily smiles; when Alex—desperate to console Kara amidst a meltdown—reminds her that the return to school will probably coincide with Lena’s return to the park, Kara’s tummy feels all twirly.

Despite not sharing the happy sentiment regarding her own return to second grade, Alex helps Kara count down the days to January 2nd.

When the anticipated date finally arrives, Nia is absent and Kara has three separate shutdowns in class, but as she sprints to Eliza’s car at 3:00 p.m., those facts don’t matter at all. Her mind is set on one thing: today, she gets to see Lena in the park again.

She races out into the field, legs moving so frantically that she trips twice, but when she arrives at the pretty much hallowed ground, she can’t help but jump up and down and hum a high pitch because _Lena’s here_.

After a moment, Lena stands up and starts jumping too. “Hi, Kara! I’m not sure why we’re jumping.”

Kara’s hands flap gleefully, and she can feel the Sun warming her body as she propels herself up and down.

“I missed you over the holiday,” Lena says after the jumping has ceased and they’ve settled on the grass.

Kara smiles. She missed Lena too, and she’s so happy to be with her again now. “I missed you over the holiday,” she responds.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t be here. Ever since I started school, I’ve lived with my nanny, Ms. Rhea, at the yellow house. I moved there since it’s closer to my school and gets me out of my brother’s way now that he’s in ‘middle school.’ But for the holiday, I went back to the big house with my mom and brother.”

Kara notes something they have in common—they both have a sibling! Eliza had told her that’s something she should do, talk about things that she and Lena both experience. “I have a sister!”

Lena smiles. “Do you like her?”

Kara wiggles her hands, considering her words carefully. “Mostly.”

“I think I like my brother ‘mostly’ too.”

\---

Kara attends Lena’s Kindergarten graduation ceremony that May. Ms. Rhea invited her and Eliza back in March, waxing poetic about how Kara charmed her, how she was glad that Lena had Kara as a friend. She’d extended the invitation one Thursday when Eliza was picking Kara up from a playdate, and Eliza had started crying (which Kara didn’t understand, because shouldn’t Eliza be happy that they could go to Lena’s graduation?—but Kara was too preoccupied with the astronomy book Lena was showing her to inquire about her mom’s apparent sadness).

At the ceremony, Kara stands out among the pristinely professional crowd with her patterned frock and bright purple ear defenders, but she doesn’t really care about the occasional glance she receives. She’s here for a reason—to watch Lena graduate—and not even the threat of loud clapping can stop her from completing her mission.

Eliza gasps when the woman in the gray dress reads Lena’s full name aloud. Kara thinks she hears her mutter “Luthor? I can’t believe I didn’t…” but between the ear defenders and the distracting fluorescent lights, Kara can’t make out the full statement. Plus, truthfully, she’s much more focused on Lena, who’s walking across the stage now in a loose white dress that nearly blends in with her light hair.

Kara stands up and haphazardly throws her hands together, wanting to make as much noise for Lena as possible; across the crowd, a tall woman stands up and claps with her fingers, and next to her stands a boy who looks older than Alex. He claps markedly more enthusiastically than the older woman—though, Kara notes with pride, not as enthusiastically as Kara herself. Kara assumes that these people are Lena’s mother and brother.

Kara spots Ms. Rhea clapping politely in the back of the auditorium; a boy who looks about the same height as Alex stands next to her, fiddling with sleeve of his jacket.

After the ceremony, Kara practically knocks Lena over with the force of her hug. “I saw you graduate!” she exclaims.

Lena nods, smiling. She keeps glancing in the direction of the tall woman—her mother—who is making her way towards them.

“Lena,” the woman says with a nod as she reaches them. She then focuses her attention on Kara and Eliza. “And you are?”

“Eliza,” her mom says, fumbling to set down Kara’s bag of sensory necessities so she can politely extend a hand to the woman. “Eliza Danvers. And this is my daughter Kara.”

The tall woman inspects Kara with intense eyes. “Kara…You met Lena in the park, if I’m not mistaken?”

Kara wants to respond, but the woman’s eyes are truly relentless. She mistakenly made eye contact with the woman, and now, it's like she can't pry her eyes away. She squirms uncomfortably under their piercing gaze.

“Yes,” Eliza supplies for her, “back at the start of the school year.” She chuckles as she continues, “They’ve certainly developed quite the friendship since then! I’m so glad to see the bond they’ve created.”

The tall woman simply nods, her lips in a prim line. “Well, I’m sure Lena will miss Kara over the summer.”

It takes a second for the implication to set in, but as soon as it does, Kara can’t think about anything else. _She won’t see Lena for the entire summer._

The tall woman is still talking, but Kara can’t hear it. She kind of feels like she can’t breathe, but she’s not sure. Is she hungry? She might be hungry.

She catches a clip of the conversation—Eliza’s saying something about “the girls possibly meeting up a few times over summer”—but her mind swarms with a thousand roaring voices, all echoing that _she won’t see Lena for the entire summer_.

Kara’s never been good at identifying her feelings, but in this moment, her primary emotion is overwhelmed. And when she’s overwhelmed, she’s supposed to do that thing that Eliza calls “grounding.” She’s pretty sure that “grounding” involves counting things, but she can’t exactly remember. What she does know is that the noun “ground” means “floor.”

So Kara sits on the floor.

The tiles’ smooth, cold surface are a positive sensory input, but the fluorescent lights of the hall feel harsh in comparison to the glowing sunlight she’s become accustomed to. She closes her eyes to block them out and grasps for her ear defenders, which rest at the base of her neck, and just as she’s about to slip them over her ears, she feels fabric brush against her leg.

She opens her eyes to find the offending garment and sees Lena sitting next to her, the fabric that had touched her belonging to Lena’s dress. Lena’s not touching her or trying to make eye contact; she’s just sitting there, next to her, like a supporting anchor amidst the chaos of the hall.

Did you know the Sun’s gravitational pull is two-hundred seventy-four meters per square second?

Kara quickly tunes into her surroundings, or at least attempts to. She needs to know what to prepare herself for. Distantly, she hears the tall woman demanding that Lena get off the dirty floor—okay, so she has to be ready for Lena to stand up and leave her—and she suspects that Eliza will pick her up off the floor and leave the building before her shutdown turns into a meltdown.

A relentless stream of information meets her eyes. Ms. Rhea is leaving out the side door with the boy. A throng of women in tailored dresses speak in hushed voices while gesturing at Kara. Lena’s mother’s ears are growing red at the tips. Eliza is reaching into her purse, and across the room, someone is wearing glittery high heels that are making a weird clacking sou—

No. Kara needs to stop the invasion of input. Those thoughts aren’t worth her time.

Lena is, though.

So she turns to face Lena, takes a few steadying breaths, and tries to verbally express just how much she needs Lena to stay with her over summer, just how much she’d miss Lena if she had to leave.

No words come out.

Her throat feels funny; a sob wracks through her shoulders. Just as she predicted, she finds herself wrapped up in Eliza’s arms and lifted from the floor. Fleeting images of the grand hall meet her clouded vision.

She thinks she sees a single tear streak down Lena’s cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments are greatly appreciated :)


End file.
